funny (if not necessarily "passive-aggressive") notes from pissed-off people

Entries Tagged as 'Oops?'

Here’s how Carter in San Francisco tells the story: “It was my birthday, and after everyone else wanted to go to bed, I wanted to take an adventure. Being wasted, though, I didn’t make it past the second step. Instead, I fell down a flight of stairs straight into a plant, breaking off two branches.”

When he awoke the next morning, not only was he bruised and hungover, he was also an offensive vandal. As it turns out, however, an apologetic one — the pink note is his. He also shelled out $22 for a pretty new plant. (That’s something we don’t see too often around these parts…)

Shar is a receptionist — and self-described germaphobe — working at a financial corporation in Toronto. The coworker who covers for her during lunch was sick this week, Shar says, and must have noticed that “when I return, I take it upon myself to Purell the crap out of my mouse, keyboard, desk surface and even pens. (I cannot afford to get sick.)”

Our submitter, Cynthia, spotted this exchange clipped to a fence in her Seattle neighborhood. “I love the meanness of trying to publicly shame my neighbor into returning this amazing garbage can, and my other neighbor’s overly offended response,” Cynthia says. As of yet, she adds, “the mystery of the missing garbage can remains unsolved.”

Meanwhile, I think some of us are still a little confused about what type of emergency constitutes calling 911. (Hint: a missing garbage can is not one of them.)

James in the U.K. recently came home from football practice to discover that, in his absence, his mother had gotten a peek at his Internet browser history (“full of…well, I’m 15, I’m sure you can guess.”) As cool as his mum was about the whole thing, says James, “I still don’t know if I’ll be able to look her in the face for a while.”

Writes Amber in Minnesota: “My friend works in accounting for a local restaurant chain, and every once in awhile she has to go through credit card receipts if something isn’t adding up correctly. She’s found some pretty interesting gems, but this one takes the cake.”

[Adds the Not-Pregnant Notewriter: THANKS FOR THE ‘TAKES THE CAKE’ COMMENT, AMBER. REALLY.]

Jillian and her roommates in Massachusetts recently found this note — which goes from 0 to 60 in half a page — outside their apartment door. At the time it was left, says Jillian: “None of us were home except the dog, who apparently needs to lose weight.”

But hey, neighbor? Even if they had been home, ignoring a knock hardly seems grounds for jumping straight to burning the mail. Apparently it is not a good month for chilling the fuck out.

Roslyn in Houston found this note under her roommate’s windshield wiper just over a month after they both moved in. Puzzlingly, she says, “We do not own a rooster, nor have we ever seen or even heard one.”

“My parents have a large front yard,” writes David in Georgia, “and up until a few years ago, it had about 40 trees in it.” Unfortunately, an arborist informed David’s parents that those trees, while they looked normal enough, had become infested and essentially hollowed-out by insects, killing the trees and turning them into a pretty big safety risk in the case of a storm. At the arborist’s recommendation — and I’m sure, at all no small expense — David’s parents had the trees removed.

Fast forward a few months to December, when the family put up their usual holiday decorations — little trees made of Christmas lights — throughout the front yard. Soon after, David says, the family received two items of interest in their mailbox:

1. A certificate of recognition from the Arbor Day Foundation, “thanking us for our efforts to prevent further tree deaths”
2. This handmade holiday card.

Adds David: “This person obviously put a lot of work into carefully drawing and writing it; the artwork and penmanship are immaculate. If only they’d put as much effort into asking us why we were having the trees removed.”

“My roommate is a total slob,” says Elinor in Toronto, so after two weeks away from the apartment, she wasn’t too surprised to see the kitchen piled high with several delightfully fragrant, filled-to-the-brim garbage bags. When she went to throw them out, Elinor discovered one of the bags was actually filled with clothes, so she put that one in her roommate’s room.

The next morning, Elinor found both of these notes slid under her bedroom door.

After a night of heavy drinking, Dani in Baltimore woke up with a killer hangover that turned positively murderous when she noticed that her bottle of Gatorade — which she’d been saving in anticipation of her post-hangover re-hydration needs — was missing from the fridge.

Assuming her husband must have taken it, Dani quickly dashed off this exclamation-point-heavy tirade (which, of course, is “passive” only in the sense that she chose to sit down at the keyboard instead of going straight for the butcher knife).

A few hours later, however, says Dani, “I remembered that I had actually drunkenly finished the bottle of Gatorade the night before, in an attempt to avoid said hangover. Oops!”

I’m hoping this little “oops” was a come-to-Jesus moment for Dani that showed her the error of note-writing ways, but if not…well, Dani’s husband: consider yourself warned. Because seriously, this is America, not another planet!

"The thing that drives me bonkers at work is to open up the trash can drawer and see a cup half-full of water that was carefully placed into the trash can so it doesn't spill--in a trash can an arm's length away from the kitchen sink!

99% of the people in my office are college graduates, probably toward the top of their class. But some without enough common sense to pour the water in the sink before putting the cup into the trash can.